


Tell Me I’m Worth Saving

by dancingloki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 16:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingloki/pseuds/dancingloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Sort-of spoilers for 8x19?) Naomi manages to convince Dean that Castiel's mind was damaged by Purgatory and she's been trying to help him all along. Cas can't protest as she leads him away, only beg Dean with his eyes to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me I’m Worth Saving

**Author's Note:**

> I don't...I don't know, it just sort of happened. Please forgive me. Inspired by the conversation between Naomi and Dean in Kevin's hideout.

The very, very small piece of Castiel that’s still capable of thought understands it. Understands why.

Dean has always hated himself. Castiel has known that since the first time they stood face-to-face, and he looked into Dean’s shocked, confused eyes and knew, _knew_ beyond any doubt, that Dean honestly did not understand why anyone had come for him. Dean did not believe he deserved to be saved. Dean still does not believe he deserves to be loved. Dean believes he is toxic, Dean believes he cannot other than hurt the people he cares about, Dean believes that he is good for nothing but to destroy. It was so, _so_ easy for Naomi to trick him, to play off his fear and self-loathing to convince him that all Castiel had told him of her treachery and evil and cruelty was a lie, merely a manifestation of his madness. So easy to make him believe that Castiel was better off with her, since Dean already more than half believed that he would never be good for Castiel. Never be good for anyone.

A small part of Castiel understands this.

But the hurt and fear and shock and—yes, even betrayal—is filling him up, crowding out the corners of his mind in a blank white hum of deafening noise, the horrible push of raw emotion overwhelming everything, even rational thought.

Naomi is speaking to Dean now, offering platitudes, false assurances. Promises. Promises that she can help Castiel, she can return him to normal. That she can do what Dean and his needy, clumsy, grasping, possessive love could not. That she will _save_ him. She tells Dean he’s doing the right thing. It’s for the best. She wishes circumstances were different.

Castiel sees shame boil hot under Dean’s skin. He looks down, nods, defeated. He fakes a grin and tells Naomi to take good care of him, okay? Naomi smiles, promises she will. Castiel knows it’s a lie. The instant they reach Heaven he’ll be strapped to a chair and she’ll be reaching inside his brain again, torturing him, forcing out all his secrets—the Angel tablet, everything—before throwing her claws into his mind again and turning him inside out until there is nothing left of him. No freedom, no _choice_ left.

No Castiel.

He wills Dean silently to _see_ , to see what she is and what she intends, to strike her down when she turns away, turns her back to him. But he just stands there, Sam anxious at his shoulder, shifting from foot to foot and pretending he’s not holding back from crying and Castiel is mute and paralyzed and cannot cry out, cannot beg Dean to save him.

And Naomi is there in front of him now, smiling that same false smile, taking his hand and saying come, Castiel. And instead of flying them both back to Heaven instantly she leads him away, letting Dean stand there and watch them go, watch Castiel walk away from him, dragging out the agony for him as long as she can to punish him for corrupting Castiel and the cruelty of it overwhelms him.

He has just enough strength to look back. Back over his shoulder, straight into Dean’s eyes as he has done so many times before but it’s different, it’s different this time, because he has never _needed_ Dean as desperately as he does now.

He tries to put everything he cannot speak into the stare. He’s pleading, _begging_ Dean with his eyes. Please don’t let her take me. Please, Dean, _please_ , I don’t want to go. Please, can’t you see what she’s _done_ to me?

Please save me.

But Dean just stares right back, meeting his eyes unwavering, one single tear running down his cheek, and he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t call out, and he doesn’t chase after them, and he doesn’t try to save Castiel, and a very small part of Castiel understands that it is because Dean genuinely believes Naomi is saving Cas from _him_.

And then with a flutter of wings, it’s too late. They’re gone, Dean’s face vanishing abruptly as Castiel is pulled into flight, and Castiel knows he will never see Dean again.

Over the coming months, the very small part of Castiel that is still alive inside him is hurt far more deeply by that knowledge than by anything Naomi visits on him. Death, when it comes, is a relief.


End file.
